


Just Can't Wait, To Pick You Up on Our Very First Date

by KastleInTheSky



Series: U Never Lie To Me [7]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Accidents Happen, Alternate Universe - College/University, Dancing in the Street, F/M, First Dates, I mean what?, Shooting Stars, Stargazing, a little light theft, even a friggin picnic, pick-up trucks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 02:10:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12925101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KastleInTheSky/pseuds/KastleInTheSky
Summary: Frank and Karen finally quit pussy-footing around and go out on a real date.





	1. Is it cool if I hold your hand?

**Author's Note:**

> Because obviously Blink 182 is involved.

Karen sat surprisingly still and calm at her desk as Trish and Jessica rather paced frantically around her dorm room.

“Jesus, I feel like a mom on prom night,” Jessica spattered, rubbing her hands together like a crazy person.

“I didn’t even know you had this much  _feeling_  in you,” Trish added as she rapidly tapped her slipped on the ground. “I  _knew_ I’d be a mess when this happened.”

 

They both turned to Karen simultaneously.

“ _How are you this calm?”_  they both yelled.

 

The honest answer was that Karen had  _no idea_  why she hadn’t turned into a nervous wreck yet. It probably hadn’t hit her; it didn’t register to her that Frank Castle, the guy she had pined after for a few weeks now, star of the football team, dreamboat extraordinaire, had actually asked her out on a date, and that date was rolling up in, oh, about five minutes now.

 

“Oh, shit,” Karen suddenly whispered as she checked her phone to confirm that Frank would here in about five minutes.

“I think I’m nervous now….”

 

That’s all it really took for Trish to phase into mother-hen mode.

“Okay, okay, don’t freak out,” Trish warned as she waved her hands towards Karen.

“You were literally  _just_ freaking out,” Jessica reminded her.

“ _NOT THE TIME,”_  Trish yelled.  Trish grabbed Karen’s hands and yanked her out of the desk chair and over towards the full-length mirror on the back of the room’s front door. Trish pushed Karen in front of her, so that Trish’s head just poked out above Karen’s shoulder.

 

“Well,” Trish began, “You look fantastic.”

 

That she did, even Karen could admit that to herself. She’d finally gotten an excuse to wear a long, wrap-around, maroon and white geometric-print dress she’d been hiding in her closest that accentuated her waist quite well. Trish had curled her hair into soft ringlets again, since Karen tended to be a klutz with the curling iron. Karen paired it with a pair of pewter booties that Jessica had actually questioned the practicality of.

  
_“You don’t even know where you’re going yet,”_  she’d warned.

 

“Aren’t people in the military usually early for shit like this?” Jessica blathered.

“I mean it’s three minutes to seven, isn’t he like three hours late in military time?”

 

Karen whirled her head back towards Jessica, her eyes beginning to bulge with fear.

“You don’t think he’s bailing, do you?!” she cried.

 

“I’m sure that’s not what she means,” Trish said, trying to console Karen and throwing Jessica a quick, back-handed smack.

 

Karen turned back around towards the mirror quickly, checking to see if her makeup needed to be touched up. It hadn’t changed since she’d checked it five minutes ago, luckily.

 

Karen heard a text alert on her phone, and the three girls all whipped their heads to check it.

“Is it him?!” Trish hissed.

Jessica, being the closet, snatched the phone off Karen’s desk. Looking down at the notification, Jessica dropped her shoulders and groaned, flatly handing the phone off to Karen.

“Not even close,” she groaned.

 

Karen grabbed the phone to see that text had been from Foggy, and she opened it to see that he’d send Karen a selfie of him and Marcy with big smiles and some thumbs-up.

 _Have fun tonight!_ , he wrote.  _Let us know how it goes!_

 

Karen smiled at the gesture, but she still noted that it was now only one minute before seven, and her stomach grumbled in anticipation.

“How are you going to know when he’s here, anyway?” Trish wondered. “Did he say he’d call you?”

“He didn’t say, now that I think about it,” Karen admitted.

 

Jessica scoffed.  
“I mean it’s Colonel Sanders,” she groaned. “He probably rode in on a white steed, rolled the red carpet up the stairs, and before we know it he’ll show up right to the door…”

 

_Knock, knock, knock._

 

“Oh that’s fucking creepy,” Jessica acknowledged.

 

Karen silently screamed, flailing her hands at Trish as Trish tried fruitlessly not to do to the same.

“Shh, shh, shh!” Trish hushed. “Go get it!”, she whispered.

 

Karen took a few deep breaths in and out before Frank knocked on the door one more time. Trish pushed Karen towards the door, and Karen could feel her hands trembling as she read towards the doorknob and pulled the door open.

 

There he was, right on time. Frank stood there at the doorway, one hand planted along the frame as he leaned. He met Karen’s gaze quickly before it fell lower to take her in completely. His eyes widened, and while he’d looked like he’d been preparing to say something, all that escaped from his mouth was a long, wisping laugh.

“Wow,” he finally managed.

 

Karen pored over him as well. He was dressed on the casual side, wearing jeans and a light sweatshirt under a black softshell jacket.  His smile had grown exponentially to an almost cheesy size.

 

If Trish hadn’t hit Karen in the back, she probably would have forgotten to speak too.

 

“Well,” she gurgled before she could completely compose herself. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

 

Frank chuckled at that as well.

“Thanks,” he smiled. He noticed Trish and Jessica in the background before raising a polite hand.

“Ladies,” he greeted.

 

Trish smiled politely and returned the wave.

“Hi, Frank,” she smiled.

“Colonel,” Jessica added with a salute.

 

Frank actually saluted back, which made Karen smile widely.

“Well,” she said, “I guess we should get going?”

 

Karen approached her desk again to get her small fringe purse off her chair, and as she turned back, she was certain she caught Frank checking out the large slit along the side of her dress, and her pale, porcelain leg peeked out from it.

 

“Eyes up, Colonel,” Jessica barked. “She’s a lady.”

“WELL YOU TWO HAVE A GOOD TIME,” Trish yelled loud enough to be distracting. Trish and Jessica encroached upon the door, shooing the two outside in their own way.

“Have fun guys!” Trish added as both her and Jessica began to wave.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Jessica followed.

“Yeah, I think we’re way passed that point,” Trish said aside to Jessica as the two watched Frank and Karen head towards the staircase.

 

“I’m really sorry,” Karen laughed as they heard the door slam shut. “They’re really quite socialized, I promise.”

“Nah, that’s okay,” Frank chuckled, “they’re good friends. Guess you should probably do right by them by having a great night, don’t ya’ think?”

 

Karen and Frank giggled and chatted all the way down the stair case until Frank jet ahead to push forth the heavy metal door to the outside so that Karen could pass through.

  
"What a gentleman," she teased as she passed through the threshold and into the crisp Autumn air.

 

The  _crisp_ ,  _Autumn_ air, she reminded herself.

 

"Shit," Karen whispered as she ran her fingers gently up her exposed arms. She'd been in such a frenzy that she'd completely forgotten a coat. 

 

Before she had the sense to turn around and run up the stairs for one, effectively embarrassing herself for the second time already before they'd even gotten in the car, she felt the warm sensation of felt envelope her shoulders and fall over her arm. She jumped a bit, and then turned quickly to see Frank, close behind her, had draped his outer coat over her shoulders.

"I mean, you said gentleman, didn't you?" he joked with a cheeky grin.

 

"That I did," Karen affirmed as Frank laid his hand along the small of Karen's back and they continued out to towards Frank's car.

 

He drove a red Ford F250, which he playfully described as "almost as old" as he was, and he'd been parked just across the quad from Karen's dorm.

"You never told me where we were going," Karen reminded Frank.

"Yeah, that was on purpose,” Frank replied with a grin. “How many times do I gotta tell you that mystery is a good thing?”

 

“ _A little_  mystery is a good thing,” Karen countered. “Too much mystery is how dates like this turn into episodes of  _Dateline_.”

“Well you look like you're dressed for TV in that outfit anyway,” Frank laughed.

Karen in turn playfully began to twirl her skirt around as she walked, pretending to be some fancy actress, or a model on a catwalk.

“So does that make you my chauffer?” she asked in an exaggerated British accent.

 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Miss Daisy,” Frank replied. Karen felt Frank's fingers brush up against hers quickly, and her heart fluttered thinking he was trying to hold her hand, but he pulled away. 

 

Instead, Frank bounded a few steps ahead of Karen to beat her to the passenger side door and open it for her.

“After you,” he insisted as he swept his arm towards the door. Karen climbed inside, but not before tripping up into the cab.

 

“You play another round of beer pong before this?” Frank joked as she got herself settled.

“Very funny,” Karen chortled. Frank shut the door and headed around front to the driver’s side.

 

As he climbed into the driver’s seat, Karen felt she had to assert something.

“You know I don’t usually… go out and get that drunk, right?” Karen asked cautiously.

Frank bellowed with laughter and he twisted his key in the ignition.

“Yeah, I know,” he said finally. “That’s why it only took you a few beers to get there.”

 

He flopped his head onto his shoulders to look at her inquisitively. Karen could feel her cheeks flushing as he smiled and began to chuckle at her again. Karen couldn’t help but laugh with him, softly nodding her head back and forth in agreement.

“Guess you got me there,” she giggled.

 

“Alright,” Frank began, flinging his right arm over onto Karen’s seat while he looked behind the car. Karen felt a little flustered over the proximity of his hand to the back of her hair.

“Let’s get this show on the road. I hope you brought your appetite, ‘cause I’ve gotten something really… ah, SHIT.”

 

Karen whipped her head towards Frank to see him staring at the back cabin floor behind her seat, his eye’s angry as he mumbled more curses to himself.

“What’s wrong?” Karen asked concerned.

“Ah… just forgot the booze.”

 

Frank sighed deeply before turning his attention to Karen once again.

“You mind if we just swing back to my place real quick?”

 

Now, Karen believed Frank was genuinely an old soul, an old-fashioned, polite, respectful, one-of-a-kind guy, by today’s standards at least. She also wasn’t an idiot.

 

Frank could see the disbelief on Karen’s face.

“I promise that’s not what this is about,” Frank swore, his words enveloped with nervous laughter.

 

Karen lifted her hands in the air.

“Whatever you say,” she said mockingly.

 

Frank lived in an off campus apartment that exclusively housed athletes. Karen had barely ever seen this part of campus, as she neither knew anyone who was an athlete before this, nor were there ever any parties over here since athletes were kept on a stricter set of standards. Frank pulled into a spot in front of one of the closer apartments.

 

“I’ll just stay in the car, “ Karen insisted.

Frank shot her a jaded stare.

“The hell you will,” he snorted, unbuckling his seatbelt.

“Are you kidding?” Karen asked, insulted. “I’ll be fine, you’re just going up for a minute.”

“I’m not leaving you in my car, alone, in Harlem, Karen,” Frank insisted.

 

Frank walked over to her side of the car and opened the door for Karen to exit, so she assumed she didn’t have a choice. She didn’t want to seem like a brat, but she couldn’t help but huff a little as her legs spilled out of the car.

 

The “ _thank you, ma’am,”_ Frank whispered as she exited didn’t make her feel completely better, but it helped.

 

Frank lived in a second floor apartment, up one flight of some of the newest, marble stairs Karen had seen anywhere near campus.

“It’ll just take a second, “ Frank assured as he turned the key into the door.

 

Without warning, Karen suddenly felt something large and heavy barrel into her legs. She stumbled back from the initial shock, but felt better immediately after realizing this large, heavy object was also furry and very prone to kisses.

 

“MAX!” Frank yelled at the large pitbull Karen was now keeled over and stroking.

“Get back inside!” he added as he grabbed the dog by hid collar and guiding him into the apartment.

 

Opening the door wider from the inside, Luke Cage greeted Frank with a bewildered stare.

“What the hell are you doing back?” Luke asked. When he caught sight of Karen, Luke’s eye grew wider and his expression embarrassed.

“Sweet Christmas, Frank, already?!” he yelled.

 

“No, not already!” Frank growled defensively as he pulled the dog inside, Karen following behind.

 

Despite how nice the building was on the outside, you could absolutely tell by the inside that the apartment belonged to two college-aged men. The furniture was unimpressively; there was a plaid, fabric sofa and reclining chair in the living room with a TV-tray set sandwiched in between them. The kitchen was clean enough, but it was completely devoid of any color other than white.

 

Karen didn’t think it was appropriate to go much further into the apartment than that.

“Do you live here too, Luke?” Karen asked as she shut the door behind her.

“Nah, I live upstairs,” Luke admitted. “Frank just asked me to watch Max while you guys were out.”

  
Karen looked down at the dog, who was now jovially wagging it’s tail and staring in her direction. Karen crouched down, and the dog immediately took the opportunity to approach her.

“Aww, well you don’t look like you could get into too much trouble, do you?” Karen cooed as she rubbed the dog behind both ears. Before she knew it, the dog was plastered on it’s back as Karen showered him with praises and belly-rubs. After a moment though, Karen began to look at the dog a little more suspiciously.

 

“Wait a second,” Karen began tentatively. She looked up at Frank, who had been in standing in the kitchen with a small cooler in his hand, and Luke, and the two were already exchanging glances and snickering.

“Is this the Marymount  _Mad Dog_? The one that went  _missing_  last season before homecoming?” Karen knew the story well; hell, she’d covered it for the paper.

 

“Not that you could prove,” Frank replied with a grin.

“You  _stole this dog?!”_ Karen began to yell and the two men shushed her.

 

“It was a prank!” Luke defended. 

“He liked us!” added Frank.

"So you've just had this  _stolen_  dog for almost a year?"

 

"What are you gonna do, narc us out to the paper?" Frank teased, stepping forth and crouching down to pet Max along with Karen.

  
"You read that article, huh?" she asked.

"Every word," Frank confirmed, two shameless smiles growing on both their faces.

"Even the part where you called me... I'm sorry, called the 'assailant', 'an abhorrent example of..."

"I know what I said," Karen quipped, "and I meant it."

 

Karen gave one last good scratch to Max's ears.

"But the dog is cute."

 

"Alright, we should get going," Frank said as he rose. He lifted the black strap of the cooler up off his shoulders for emphasis.

"Got the goods."

 

Karen rose as well, opening the door before they said a final goodbye to Luke, and heading off to finally begin their night.


	2. When you smile, I melt inside.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank and Karen arrive to a secluded area by the river for their intimate, private date. Yeah, right, let's see how that works out.

"So Russo's guarding the door, me and Luke have this, this foam shit, from the inside of some cushions taped to our arms in case the thing bites us. We get in there, and he just falls all over the floor like a big mush."

 

Frank and Karen laughed together during the drive as Frank had taken to explaining how exactly stole Max, or as Frank put it, "adopted".

 

"We were gonna return him, but we just couldn't," he finished.

 

"Well, I guess if he means that much to you, I won't 'narc' you out to he paper," teased Karen.

 

Frank tilted a pretend-hat to Karen as he drove.

"Appreciate that, ma'am."

 

Frank cleared his throat as he put his hand back on the wheel.

"So, uh, how did you get into that stuff in the first place?"

"What stuff?" Karen inquired.

"You know... the paper, writing and stuff," clarified Frank.

 

Karen looked aimlessly out the window as Frank drove down the West Side Highway and right passed the stories-high Intrepid. The story was a long one, a hard one sometimes for Karen to tell, but if this was going to go anywhere, it was an important story for her to tell.

 

“Well,” she began, “I, uh… it started in high school. You know how it goes, picking electives as an underclassman meant you basically take whatever scraps get thrown to you after the juniors and seniors were done with them. I wanted to take astronomy, but I got stuck in journalism. It was… it was my teacher, mostly. I had this… truly _great_ teacher. He had such a… such a thirst for justice, the truth. Even if we only had to write about the county 4H seminar, he made sure we spoke with integrity, open-mindedness, enthusiasm. Just… just stuff that’s really important for a kid in high school to understand, I guess.”

 

“Well I’m sure he’s pretty happy you kept with it,” Frank interjected.

Karen smiled bitterly.

“I hope he would be. He, uh… he passed away my senior year, right before college decisions went out. He was the one who insisted I apply to Columbia, really push myself, y’know? He went here himself actually, even wrote for the Bulletin for a long time before he started teaching. Even wrote me a kick-ass letter of recommendation. I figured after that, that’s when I really knew I needed to pursue journalism, to… I guess inspire other people to… be truth-seekers in their own sense, y’know?”

 

Frank cleared his through again and straightened his posture, like somehow the atmosphere in the car had gotten much more formal.

“Sorry to hear that,” he grumbled. “What was, uh… Who was the guy?”

Karen’s smiled remain sad with the memory.

“Mr. Urich,” she sighed. “Ben Urich. Best teacher I’ll ever have.”

 

Karen straightened her own spine and slid her hands over her dress, like a few moments of intimacy made her too messy.

“I’m sorry,” she laughed. “I didn’t mean to be such a downer.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, ma’am. I asked a question, you answered, ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.”

“Yeah, well it’s not exactly good first date talk,” Karen retorted, trying to keep the mood playful.

Frank chuckled breathily.

“Ma’am,” he replied, “These are the things I’ve been dyin’ to know.”

 

Karen’s face blushed intensely, and she shied away towards her window again to hide it.

“Hey, how did that article you did about me come out anyway?” Frank inquired.

“You mean you didn’t read it?” Karen asked, a little taken aback.

“I didn’t say I didn’t read it,” Frank replied. “I’m just asking how you think it came out.”

 

Karen laugh. “Well, good, I suppose. Ellison seemed happy with it. We had a hard time finding issues to save in the archives; everyone wanted to get to know a little bit more about the big, bad Punisher,” she added with a coy smirk.

 

“Well, you better make sure you keep your copy then. If that friend of yours is right, I’m gonna be a big star one day. That’ll be worth a lot,” Frank joked.

 

Poor Foggy, Karen thought with a smile.

 

“Do you think you’re really gonna be famous one day?” Karen finally asked.

 

Frank shrugged his shoulders, but declined to answer for the time being. Karen continued to watch him while he drove, though, sensing the topic hadn’t completely been extinguished.

 

“Who knows,” he finally admitted.

“Do you want to be?” Karen followed up.

“Eh…” was all Frank could muster. Karen could tell this was maybe too sensitive a topic, again since they were only on their first day, so she left it alone.

 

“Hey,” Karen said softly after Frank had been quiet for a few moments.

Frank’s face fell immediately towards her and their eye’s meet sweetly for a short moment before Frank focused again on the road.

“Yeah?” he asked in a voice that seemed too afraid to be a whisper.

 

“Are you finally gonna tell me where we’re going?”

Frank let out another hissing laugh through his teeth.

“We’re almost there, just be patient,” he insisted.

 

“Y’know the longer this goes on, the more I think you’re just taking me down to the river, and you’re gonna throw me in.”

 

Frank lifted the pointer finger of his right hand and wagged it once at Karen.  
“Well, I _am_ taking you down to the river, but I’ll feed ya before I throw you in. Sound like a plan?”

 

“That’s a relief, I’m starving,” Karen smiled. Her head haphazardly fell towards the backseat, and then Karen finally noticed it – a legitimate picnic basket was laying on the back seat. It looked quiet well done, and of course Karen remembered that the cooler lying next to it held the alcohol.

 

Karen also noticed that on the other side of the car, behind Karen’s seat and hidden from her vantage point, was the neck of a Fender.

 

Frank eventually pulled into an abandoned lot along the East River, It was a little after eight o’clock at night. The sun had set a little over an hour ago, and the river was well-cascaded in dusk, save for a few big flood lights scattered every fifty feet.

 

“This seems…” Karen began.

“I know it ain’t much…” countered Frank, and Karen could sense he felt a little ashamed this situation wasn’t grandiose.

“Nice,” Karen finished. Even in the dark, Karen could see Frank’s embarrassment melt off his face, and his cheeks turned a dull rose.

“I got a bunch of special stuff for ya’ in the back,” Frank exclaimed, throwing a thumb towards the picnic basket Karen had already seen.

 

“It looks pretty fancy,” she smiled. “You do that yourself?”

“Hell no,” Frank laughed. He pushed his door open and Karen did the same. Frank trotted over to her side to make sure Karen climbed down safely.

“Guess I should’ve warned you,” Frank admitted aside to her.

“Yeah,” Karen confirmed with a laugh.

 

“But, uh, you remember my friend Dave? From the party?”

“The, uh… doesn’t he have another name?” Karen asked.

“He goes by Micro. He made it up himself. It hasn’t caught on yet,” Frank added.

 

Frank grabbed the basket out of the backseat and headed around to the truck bead. He pulled up the cover, and underneath Frank had hidden several rolled-up blankets, a camping lantern, and a few chair cushions.

 

“Well, his girlfriend, Sarah, who he was with? She’s a good cook, culinary major, she… she made the whole thing.”

Frank hoisted himself up into the truck bed, then turned around the offer both his hands to Karen and helped pull her inside. Frank arranged the cushions so that he and Karen could sit adjacent to one another.

 

“Well that’s very sweet of her,” Karen said, twisting her legs downward to sit cross-legged on the cushion. Frank took his own seat, grabbed the lantern, and set it ablaze.

“Candlelight,” he said with a laugh. Karen appreciated it though; the glow from the lamp did almost mirror candlelight, and Frank’s face was basked in a wonderful, warm orange glow.

 

“So what’s on the menu?” she asked.

 

Frank opened the wicker basket and the cooler and laid whatever Sarah had packed out into the truck.

“It’s a…” Frank began to explain as he unpacked the contents of the basket. Atop the blanket, he laid a few paper-towel-covered sandwiches onto the blanket.

“Moof-a… Muff-a… muff… muff somethin’,” he manged. “Some Cajun shit.”

 

As Frank unfolded the paper towel, Karen howled with laughter.

“A Muffaletta?” she howled. “Aren’t you supposed to be Italian? That’s not _Cajun!”_

_“_ She said it was from New Orleans!” Frank contested, picking one sandwich up, opening it up to examine its contents.

 

“Oh man, why didn’t she just say that?” Frank laughed. “I could’a made these! This is just some provolone, some mortadella, salami…”

“I think there’s supposed to be some mozzarella on it too…” Karen chimed.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Frank exclaimed as he shook his head playfully at Karen.

“This is stuff ya’ gotta know, Karen,” he insisted. “It’s not mot-ser-ella. It’s mut-zah-rell-ah.”

“Well, excuse me,” Karen giggled, "In Vermont we say mot-ser-ella, and we  _make_ cheese on my farm, so I think I should get a pass."

 

Frank unpacked Karen’s sandwich, along with a Tupperware full of chocolate strawberries, and from the cooler Frank took out two mason jars full of what looked like red wine.

 

“You _make_ your own cheese, huh?” Frank asked curiously as the two finally began to eat.

“Like with your own cows?” he added with his mouth full.

 

“Mhmm,” Karen mumbled back, her mouth equally full. She swallowed. “We even have a butter churn.”

“No shit,” Frank laughed. “They still make those things?!”

“It’s literally two-hundred years old. It’s been in the barn on our property since my, like… great-great-great-great-GREAT grandparents were around.”

“Your family’s been on that farm for _that_ long?!” Frank asked bewildered. “Shit, since I was born, we’ve lived in Astoria, Woodside, Forest Hills.”

 

“Yeah well I think you’re the lucky one,” Karen admitted. “Gets a little bit boring, being in the same place forever.”

“So, if you’d never have that teacher, and he didn’t suggest to come here, do you think you would’ve ended up here anyway?”

“Maybe,” Karen admitted, “sooner or later. I mean,” she added, sweeping her hand out towards the river, to the other side of the city, “who could stay away from all this?”

 

Karen at that point picked up the Mason jar Frank had placed in front of her with the red wine concoction, twisting off the lid off and slipping slowly, before she through the jar back quickly, covering her mouth with three loose fingers.

“Holy shit,” she said suddenly. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.

 

Frank seemed very amused by this, as his smile grew tenfold as he leaned back onto his palms.

“Ah, you like that?” he asked. “I made that one myself. That’s my ma’s Sangria, she taught me how to make that when I was like,” he laughed, “maybe thirteen?”

“That young?” Karen asked. “Your mom sounds like fun.”

“It’s an Italian thing I guess,” he smiled. “We have wine and coke at dinner almost every night.”

  
Frank switched his posture again, this time raising off his hands and folding forwards, resting his elbows on his knees as he grabbed his own jar of Sangria and twisted the lid off.

“See the thing about this is that my ma doesn’t make it with any citrus, because she’d allergic. She’s got… cherries in here, blackberries, some pears, and she says the secret ingredient is fig.”

“So it’s not so much a Sangria as it is a… wine punch?” Karen asked.

Frank chuckled. “Don’t tell her that.”

 

Karen watched as Frank took another long sip of his Sangria, and though she knew the answer, she was inclined to ask.

“You’re gonna be okay driving home, right?” she questioned.

 

Frank’s brow seemed to furrow, like he’d thought for a moment about being offended, but when he spoke, there was still a light-heartedness in his voice.

“You really think I’d put you in some kind of danger like that?” he asked, the heaviness of the question clashing with his sweet, warm smile.

 

Karen felt herself blush again. “Fair enough,” she smiled.

 

The air was quiet for a moment, as the two looked out onto the river, sipping from their drinks slowly. Karen looked up at the sky; she mostly could never see stars in the city from all the light, and she was surprised to see this night was somehow Karen could see a few of them.

 

“Y’know, it’s weird,” Frank said suddenly, as Karen’s neck stayed craned to the sky.

“What’s weird?” she asked without looking down.

“Just that we still need to do all this getting’ to know each other shit,” he admitted.

 

Karen’s gaze finally fell towards him, as she raised one eyebrow sarcastically.

“Oh is this too tedious for you?” she joked.

 

Frank laughed and blushe, which made Karen’s cheeks grow redder in return.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” he argued. “I mean that it just… feels like we’ve been doin’ this for a long time, y’know?”

 

“I guess we have,” Karen answered. “Just a matter of time before you moved up from Sharpe notes to actually asking me out,” she smiled. “Not to mention all the time you spent watching me in the dorm halls last year.”

 

“I mean, can you blame me?” Frank asked. “Damn, the whole floor did it. When a some kinda knockout like you comes walkin’ by, you pay attention.”

 

Karen’s heart was practicing for its black belt.

“Well, thanks,” she said shyly. She tried to hold off eye contact, simply because of all the nerves. In her peripheral, she could see Frank doing the same, lobbing his head aimlessly, both of them trying to avoid letting this moment become something they could no longer control.

 

Frank must’ve had the same idea Karen had earlier, and his eyes must’ve been focused on the sky as Karen’s mind raced. It was actually happening, she thought. After all this time flirting, here they were, alone on a beautiful night. Karen could feel the romantic tension growing, so much so that she was petrified that the next time she looked at Frank, she’d never be able to look away.

 

“Hey,” Frank called over to her, his eyes still focused on the sky. “Hey, look!”

 

Before Karen could ask what happened, Frank had left over to her side of the truck, finding a quick spot next to her. He gently laid his hang along the small of Karen’s back again, and pointed up at the sky. Karen saw one shooting star whizz by them overhead.

“No way!” she exclaimed. It’s not like she’d never seen one before. She’d in truth seen plenty back home, but their was something eternally more exciting about seeing one, through all the lights in Manhattan, next to Frank Castle.

 

She turned to look at Frank, a wide smile across her face, and she found Frank already staring back at her. His eyes looked intense, unable to focus on her exactly, but rather all over her.

“Frank,” she whispered in an attempt to allow him to focus.

 

It worked. Frank’s eyes finally locked on hers, for only a moment before they fell again to her lips. The butterflies in Karen’s stomach stopped fluttering around, as if they’d stopped their searching and found the one thing to fly into unafraid.

 

Karen found herself moving in first, slowly. The tip of her nose brushed against Frank’s softly, and she felt Frank’s right hand rise towards her, his fingertips brushing along her jaw line. It would have been the perfect moment, if…

 

Frank’s cell phone began to ringing wildly from somewhere in his pocket. It startled the two so much that they always smashed their noses together. Frank cursed under his breath and he slapped up and down his legs looking for his phone. Karen slouched back into the side of the cab, her heart over her chest.

 

“Not a good time, Luke,” Frank growled once he’d answered the phone.

“What do y’… Ah shit,” he said into the receiver. “Is he okay? Ah goddamn it… yeah I guess you should… I got some extra cash in my desk drawer, take it…”

 

“What’s wrong?” Karen asked, not too concerned with her volume.

Frank pulled the mouthpiece away from his face.

“It’s Max,” he answered. “Poor guy just stepped on a piece of glass while Luke was walkin’ him.”

 

“Wait,” Karen instructed, shooting a hand out to grab onto Frank’s knee. “Don’t take him to the vet, I can help him!”

“What do you mean, you can help him?” Frank asked suspiciously.

 

Karen jumped up from her seat, gathering together the contents of the two baskets and packing them back up.

 

“I mean you don’t have to take him to the vet and spend hundreds of dollar, when I can help him myself!”

 

“But how do you…?” Frank started. Karen sassily threw a look back at him.

“What, do you think cow’s don’t run into thorn bushes?” she asked. By the looks of it, the majority of the reference went right over Frank’s head, but Frank still jumped out of the cab and followed Karen into the car.

 

“Never mind,” he huffed to Luke on the phone. “I guess I’m comin’ back. I’ll be right there.”


End file.
